Theatre: The Marionette
by EFAW
Summary: In the Theatre, the Marionette is the part that everyone focuses on. Controlled by the Puppeteer, the Marionette brings delight to the Audience. But is the Marionette as content with this life as led to believe? Oneshot.


I don't own DNAngel, though I wish I did. Mentions of shounen-ai, nothing explicit (all of my fics have shounen-ai, this should be nothing of a surprise by now) but, otherwise, it's mostly just Satoshi angst, Satoshi angst, and more Satoshi angst.

**OOOO **

**Theatre: The Marionette **

_The curtain lifts… _

_In the Theatre, there is always a stage. The Marionette dances upon it, skilled and manipulated by the hands of the hidden Puppeteer above it. The spotlights shine, and while the strings are hidden, it can seem like magic to the Audience. Upon the stage, the Marionette dances, and flies, soaring through the air on invisible wings._

_But once the lights have dimmed, and the Audience has left, the Marionette becomes nothing more than a toy. Without someone to manipulate the strings, the Marionette can do nothing more than lay limply, reflecting on the show, and wish it, too, could fly like that without its strings. But the cold, hard truth is the Marionette will never have any freedom. The Puppeteer owns the Marionette, and without the Puppeteer, the Marionette is nothing._

_There is one thing that catches the Marionette's attention, though. The Doll is a puppet, too, but without strings. Shown proof that there is another life, for the first time, the Marionette begins to wish for something else. Starts to wish for the Doll's life, the Doll's home…and for the Doll itself._

_This enrages the Puppeteer greatly. The Doll had already taken away his Audience, it would not take away his Marionette. But while he clutches at his puppet all the harder, the Marionette still longs for the freedom that the Doll has, though it realizes that it will never get it._

_Even so, it longs._

_The stage is called Life._

_This is the Marionette._

_Let the show begin._

XXXX 

Few things were allowed to be precious to Hiwatari Satoshi. Fewer still were allowed to be precious without consequence. Of the latter, he could with the fingers on one hand. The former, he could count…still with one hand, but with more fingers. He was Hikari, and the lesson had been drummed into his head since he was a child: Never let anything become precious, because it will soon disappear.

But he had.

He held precious only five things:

Niwa Daisuke-kun.

His dreams.

His memories.

His wings.

…And…

Harada-Risa-san.

Yes. One of his precious things was Harada Risa-san. Not because of anything she had given him, no, for the female rarely, if ever, looked at him, much less gave him anything. But she was precious to him for the lesson she had taught him. She had let him learn that it was foolish to chase an unrequited love, because, while one was looking ahead, one tripped over the objects underfoot. While the Phantom Thief may have liked Harada-san, it was nowhere near love. The thief wasn't allowed to love, because his loves would never become a constant in his life. She was foolishly chasing something that she could never have.

So, he took a leaf out of Harada-san's book.

And ripped it.

Burned it a little.

And felt infinitely better.

Seeing how Harada-san kept chasing and chasing her object of desire, and never coming close enough to actually capture his heart, he had decided not to do the same thing with the one he loved. He would stand back, and carefully detail everything his love did, but never once would he chase after wild fantasies that he knew would never come true. And while Krad knew of this preciousness, he did nothing, because killing the girl would do nothing to Satoshi. He had learned his lesson from her, and while he would be shocked if she died, he would not deeply be affected, because the lesson he learned from her was engraved into his mind, and killing her would do nothing to diminish the impact of that message.

So Krad did Harada Risa-san no harm.

Niwa Daisuke-kun. He, too, was another one of Hiwatari Satoshi's precious things. He was, perhaps, the most precious of his precious things. Few things could compare to the way that Niwa-kun could make his heart start to flutter, and nothing could make him show emotions rarely used to anyone else. No one else could have made him smile, though it was nothing more than a quirk of the lips. Niwa-kun never knew what he did to the ocean-eyed teen, but this did not matter. Satoshi cherished every moment that he was with Niwa-kun. He treasured every second he could spend watching Niwa-kun.

…_this enrages the Puppeteer greatly…_

Krad hated Niwa Daisuke.

It went back ages, a fight that continued on through the centuries, but this time, he hated the Niwa boy for something else. He hated the Niwa boy for taking away, not one, but two of the things he needed more than anything. The Niwa clan had taken one of the things many, many years ago, leaving him a broken mess, turning him into the crazed creature he had become. But he would not let the Niwa clan take the second thing he needed, not again.

So he vowed to kill the Niwa boy.

This hurt Satoshi deeply. He loved Niwa-kun more than anything, and he wouldn't let Krad hurt him, even at the cost of his own life. But, no matter how hard he fought, he was only human. Humans tire, and eventually, he would always run out of strength and release his control, unable to do anything else.

…_skilled and manipulated by the hands of the hidden Puppeteer above it…_

Krad would take control, and Satoshi, while worrying for Niwa-kun's safety, would live through the third of his precious things. His wings. He screamed, it hurt so much, but once the pain was past, he cherished the feeling of flying through the night. Though they were not his wings, though he could not control where his flight led, he could love the feel of the wind around him, the ground beneath him, and nothing but the horizon ahead.

…_upon the stage, the Marionette dances, and flies, soaring through the air on invisible wings…_

Too soon, the flight is over, the chase exhausted, the Hikari artifact gone in the hands of a thief. And Krad returns to the prison called home, relinquishing control of Satoshi, and leaving nothing for the boy, no strength, no energy, no comfort, just the helpless feeling Satoshi always got. Unable to move, Satoshi can do nothing more than think, which can be read by Krad, then fall asleep and dream.

…_the Marionette can do nothing more than lay limply, reflecting on the show, and wish it, too, could fly…_

This is the fourth of Hiwatari Satoshi's precious things.

He dreams, and Krad cannot come into them. Though he is cruel, he has a sense of honor, twisted as it may be. He will not breach through something so private as a dream. He keeps his dreams hidden from Satoshi, and since the teen does nothing to get into them, he responds likewise. So Satoshi can dream peacefully, without fear of Krad peering in on his subconscious and using what he finds there to torture Satoshi farther.

The last item Satoshi has that he calls precious are his memories. Krad's twisted sense of honor comes into play once again, with the idea that the past is the past, it has happened, and a person cannot change that. His memories are sacred. Without his memories, he cannot reflect upon the things he has done, the things he should have done, the things he could have done. So while Krad is an unscrupulous person with little morals, he will not breach the code of honor he holds, and he will not toy with Satoshi's memories.

So, of the five things he holds precious, three can be kept without consequence.

The others he keeps through a haze of pain.

…_this is the Marionette…_

**XXXX**

The guards were shouting again. Captain Saehara could do nothing. The artifact was already stolen. Only Commander Hiwatari could stop Dark now, and Commander Hiwatari was nowhere to be found.

Not by the guards, nor detected by Dark until the thief was almost upon him.

The phantom only detected the boy after he was pinned to the wall. A smirk crossed his lips, and he drawled out his usual kinky greeting that would have made any true fourteen-year old blush to his roots. The Commander just stared levelly at him. Dark pushed the boy away, and they began their battle, the cat-and-mouse game, though it was never truly clear who the cat was.

…_and while the strings are hidden, it can seem like magic to the Audience…_

But, like always, Satoshi could not keep up the game while pushing Krad away. And so the game begins anew, this one infinitely more deadly. No longer cat-and-mouse, it is a hunt, the hunter chasing, the hunted fleeing. And while both parties know who is who in this game, they pretend that it matters not, taunting one another with near hits and just-out-of-reach grabs.

And, as it always happened, the thief got away, and Krad could do nothing to follow. He knew where the Niwa family rested, but he was above slaughter, and would not murder a family of people just because of one person. No, two people. He had to kill both Dark and the Niwa boy, and it was just luck that they were both in the same body. So, he turns and flies back to Satoshi's apartment, releasing the boy and watching him fall.

…_once the lights have dimmed, and the Audience has left, the Marionette becomes nothing more than a toy…_

He can do little but stare up at the ceiling, and contemplate the life he would much rather have. But, though he wishes for another life, he knows, in his heart of hearts, that he would change nothing in his own, despite the pain and trials he has been put through, because if he changes anything…

…he will never meet Niwa Daisuke-kun.

And Niwa-kun is the only thing that is keeping his sanity.

**XXXX**

There is something distinctly different about the relationship the two Tamers have between their curses. For one pair, it is a pleasure, for the two live in harmony, symbiotic together. But for the other, the life is a tortuous one, plagued continuously by a parasite that resides in his mind.

…_the Doll is a puppet, too, but without strings…_

Once, Satoshi's relationship with Krad was not unlike Niwa-kun's with Dark's. Krad had been kind when he was younger, comforting him when he got in trouble, consoling him the one time in his life he had ever cried. Once upon a time, Krad had been a friend, a comfort, a constant. He had been someone that Satoshi could turn to, in a world where he was allowed nothing to turn towards.

Satoshi had once loved Krad.

But that changed.

…_the Doll had already taken away his Audience, it would not take away his Marionette…_

Krad became jealous of Niwa-kun, and got angry. He became cruel, trying to provoke the ocean-eyed teen into a rage, to release his control in his fury, and let Krad take over. All Krad could see was the Niwa boy was taking away the second thing he needed most, and he wasn't going to let that happen, not again.

He tried to eliminate the competition. But all of his efforts were in vain, for nothing inside would let Satoshi love someone who had killed one that was precious. So that love he once held mutated, and the strongest love in a loveless world became something else; a hate, just as strong, that was borne from that love.

You only hurt the ones you love.

…_the Marionette still longs for the freedom that the Doll has…_

And what once had been wonderful, became horrible. What once was love, now is hate. And Satoshi began to long for the life he had once held, the life Niwa-kun had. A symbiotic relationship with the curse inside, turning it into not so much as a curse, but a miracle, a wish granted in a time of need.

But hate is a hard road to conquer, and while he can try, Satoshi cannot deny that what he once felt was gone, buried under a towering mountain of hate, just as what he once loved had disappeared, destroyed under the weight of a jealous angel. The feelings he once had were gone, and Krad would never get that love back.

There was nothing to give back.

**XXXX**

Outside, it was cold. Snow gently spiraled down from the sky, landing wetly on the ground and making the whole walking experience much harder. Slush lined the streets, kicked up by cars, and everything in sight was blanketed by dirty white snow. Nothing exposed was safe from the snow.

Inside, it was bright, cheery. Light shone merrily from the windows, and glimpses could be caught of the family inside, laughing and having an altogether good time. Love and warmth practically oozed from the little house, showing just how happy the family was.

…_wish for the Doll's life, the Doll's home…_

On the sidewalk, one lone figure stood, the only person outside in the storm. Snow whirled around him, clung to his hair, his eyelashes, his clothes. His skin was white, his lips a pale, pale shade of blue, his eyes longing. He didn't seem to notice the cold, bundled up as he was, and while it was obviously affecting him, he just kept watching the lights of the house.

He had no family. He had nothing. His house was a white apartment, more hospital than apartment, and he felt no need to go back. Not just yet. It hurt to go back, knowing that when he opened the door, there would be no one to greet him, no one to say they were glad he was back. There was nobody but the voice in his head.

…_and for the Doll itself…_

The one thing he thought he could ever make a home with, he would never have, because what he wanted was protected. That was okay. A little. Love was blissful agony, self-centered unselfishness. As long as Niwa-kun was happy, Satoshi would be happy, but that didn't stop him from longing, wishing that he could have Niwa-kun for his own. But the redhead was protected by his family, by Dark, by the people who loved him. Satoshi was no exception.

And he wasn't going to risk losing one of the few things he cherished over a silly little phrase, a ridiculous three words. He needed Niwa-kun's friendship, and he wasn't going to make that go away because he wanted to say the three words that expressed exactly how he felt.

I love you.

A sigh escaped blue lips, snatched away by the wind, and he turned, walking away from the warm little house. He had no place in the light, in the warmth. Though he was named Hikari, he stood in the shadows, enveloped by ice, and there was no flame hot enough to melt the cold exterior. He knew that, and he lived with that.

That didn't stop him from wishing for Niwa-kun's fiery spirit.

…_and without the Puppeteer, the Marionette is nothing…_

But there was nothing for him in that life. So he kept in his shadows, the only company he had the voice in his head. The cruel, tortuous voice of one who he had loved, and lost, the demon hiding behind an angel's face. There was nothing about this Krad that he liked, but he couldn't deny to himself the fact that, without Krad, he would go insane. Man was not meant to live alone, and true hermitage would have driven Satoshi crazy.

In a warped way, he was glad Krad was there.

So he didn't have to be alone.

…_even so, it longs…_

That didn't keep him from wanting what Niwa-kun had. A kind family, a warm home…a curse that didn't try to hurt him. Maybe it was foolish to wish for such impossible things, but that he could try anyway. Even if it never came true, he could long for what he didn't have. He could long for the freedom of flying on his own wings without fear of pain.

…_the cold, hard truth is the Marionette will never have any freedom…_

He knew he would never get what he wanted. His wings were Krad's, his life nothing more than a shell, a vessel for a creature that hell had spat back up.

Still…

…_the stage is called Life…_

Another sigh was caught and tossed about the wind. A pale, slender hand gripped the doorknob of the white door, knowing what would be behind it, and knowing how hopeless it was to expect any different. Still, he was just the tiniest bit disappointed that there was nothing beyond the whiteness of his walls, the simple furniture, the crispness in the air. The apartment felt unlived in, unloved, which wasn't far from the truth. The only thing that could make it better was a spot of color.

Red, maybe.

Slowly, heavy steps brought the teen to his study, where a small easel stood. Gingerly, as though Krad might jump out at any second, Satoshi picked up his paintbrush, artist's hands shaking ever so slightly as they gripped the thin handle. His free hand gently picked up a tube of paint, watching the color splash onto his palette. He watched it for a second, before dipping his brush into the blob and stroking it across the canvas.

The reds streaked the cloth, splashing color into the otherwise cold room.

There were few things Hiwatari Satoshi held precious. He could count the total on one hand. But maybe…just maybe, Krad would allow him one more.

Maybe, he would be allowed to hold the color red precious.

_Let the show begin…_

**OOOO**

Wow, after reading this, I realize how incredibly jerky this is. I came up with this idea at one A.M. in the morning, and it went much smoother in my mind, but I think it did come out well, considering everything. The jerky format seems, to me, to suit the story. So, tell me what you think, whether you liked it or not, any criticism, constructive or not, I don't care. I'm hoping for at least three reviews (that's not a lot, people, can you grant a broke author this one request?), so please help me get there.

This is the first installment in a four-set of oneshots I'm hoping to do. If you liked this, please stay tuned for the next installment, coming…sometime soon.

_Act 2:_

**Theatre: The Doll**


End file.
